


This Is My Family

by Moonbeam (luvsbitca)



Series: We Are Addamses [3]
Category: Addams Family - All Media Types, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Birthday Party, But mostly they want to meet Derek, Getting Together, M/M, Stiles' Birthday, The Pack meets the Addamses, birthday kisses, do abound at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-04 22:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5350013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvsbitca/pseuds/Moonbeam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Stiles' 21st birthday party and his family is here to meet the pack – well, mainly to meet Derek who comes to a decision after talking to them.</p><p>Sequel To – Is That A Cat?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer –** Don't own either universe – just Netflix, DVDs, and a highly suggestive brain.
> 
> I may have possibly spent the last few days writing the sequel to this instead of writing this. But, I'm pretty pleased overall with how my holidays have gone. Lots and lots of writing…not a lot of unpacking going on but I'm going to live here for a long time so there's no rush I suppose. I have planned three stories after this one. Hopefully, interest will last that long. I struggled with this one because I never felt like I got the Addamses right. Let me know, please.

**This Is My Family**  
by Moonbeam

Derek hated birthdays. The night his family died was part of the weekend long celebration for his cousin Michael's birthday. It wasn't the _actual_ party night but his family had always done birthdays in the biggest way possible – for his mother's fortieth they had had a week long party with every member of the Hale family. After they were all murdered he and Laura had never even mentioned birthdays again. One time in small town North Carolina, they had literally not eaten one night just because the only diner in town had a guy celebrating his birthday with his family.

When he'd started a pack he hadn't thought about all of the things that would come with it that would remind him of his family but there was no choice really – he had to participate in Christmas and birthdays and all sorts of other things. Well, in all honesty, if it hadn't have been for Stiles they probably would have let him skip all of them. But, Stiles would never let him miss any of it. So, he was standing in his almost finished-being-built house, staring at himself in the mirror Lydia had brought over one day in a fit of annoyance at the fact they had to meet at Derek's construction site, and trying to psych himself up to going to the party. Normally, he aimed to arrive at any party last but he couldn't do that tonight – not with Stiles' family in town and…not for Stiles – the younger man definitely deserved better than a friend who would arrive late.

Derek smoothed his hand down the sea green shirt and wondered if Stiles would agree with Lydia that it brought out his eyes. He mentally rolled them and grabbed his stuff, including the present that he'd ventured into the masses of people at the shop to buy – he was going to have to get the internet as soon as he could so that he could go back to internet shopping.

He could hear the music before he turned into Stiles' street, but his car was the first one, apart from Scott's, there. And being at a birthday party for longer than he wanted to was suddenly completely worth it the moment Stiles threw the door open and beamed at him.

"You're early," Stiles said, tugging him into the house. "Why? No, never mind, come on – we're trying to convince Dad that he shouldn't be the one using the barbecue."

"Why?" Derek asked.

"Because he just stands at the barbecue and doesn't mingle."

"Which he likes," Sam said, walking through the living room. "Hey, Derek, long time no see."

Derek smiled at him and thrust the present in his hands at Stiles' chest. "Happy birthday."

Stiles rolled his eyes and smiled at Derek, holding onto the present. "Thanks."

Derek shoved his hands in his pockets. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Talk to Dad."

Derek nodded and walked into the kitchen.

"I'm happy Stiles is close to Morticia again but I like having something else to focus on," Sam said. "I'm using the barbecue."

"Okay."

"Want something to drink?"

"It doesn't do anything to me, and it just doesn't taste any good to me either."

Sam nodded. "That's unfortunate."

Derek shrugged. He heard Lydia's heartbeat coming towards the door, Malia with her.

"You don't miss what you've never known," he said.

Sam nodded and smiled at Derek. "You're here early for the party."

Derek shrugged.

"And Stiles is almost done with university."

Derek nodded. "Yeah, only six months left."

"And he said he's coming back to Beacon Hills."

"Well, you're here and the pack's here."

"Lydia said she might not be coming back."

Derek nodded again, not sure what to do with his body while he spoke to the Sheriff, he wanted to fold his arms but he didn't want to come off as defensive which just left him feeling awkward. "It's hard to do the work Lydia wants to do in Beacon Hills."

"Shame for Jordan."

Derek shrugged, not sure what to say.

"Right, you can escape if you like."

Derek shook his head, hearing the pack in the other room. "I'm happy to help you."

"So long as I don't talk?"

"I just don't know what you want me to say."

"What would you have said to Stiles?"

Derek shrugged. "Stiles just tends to talk so it's easier."

"He does do that."

Derek listened to the pack move out into the backyard, they were jovial, all happy to be together for Stiles' birthday and Derek still felt separate and didn't know how to go out there and join in. He didn't get a choice; moments later, Stiles was in the kitchen and pulling them both out to the party.

"We were doing something with the food," Derek said defending himself.

Stiles turned around and rolled his eyes. "You were standing with my Dad looking awkward."

"I wasn't…it wasn't…fine."

Stiles smiled at him and pulled Derek over to where the pack was standing but he didn't leave Derek's side even as his friends from university arrived. In fact everyone was there except for Stiles' family. That changed just as the clock inside ticked over to the new hour.

"You're here!" Stiles said, bounding over to the group that had just walked around the corner.

Derek was going to stay where he was, until Stiles' hand hooked in his and he was dragged along behind the younger man. Stiles only let go of Derek only to throw his arms around the woman standing in the centre of the group. Derek took a moment to take them all in.

"Derek," Stiles said, grinning. "This is my Aunty Tish." Aunty Tish was a tall woman, with almost translucent skin, blood red lips, and a form-fitting black lace dress. "And Uncle Gomez," next to her was a man wearing an old fashioned pinstripe suit with a thin moustache and a rakish smirk. "That's Uncle Fester," standing just a little behind Gomez was a tall man with a bald head, dark rimmed eyes, and an oddly guileless expression. "This is my cousin Puglsey," There were two boys standing on Aunty Tish's other side, both pale with dark hair but where one was rotund the other was thin and tall with a shadow of beard and surprisingly blue eyes – the older of the two lifted his hand in a wave. "Wednesday, and her…boyfriend…or well…anyway…her Joel." On Gomez's side was a short, striking woman a little older than Stiles with a black bob and cold eyes, a man with a thick, grey-flecked beard stood behind her in a black shirt open at the collar. "And my cousin-"

"Bert," Pubert said, jumping in over Stiles.

"Bert," Stiles finished with a smile to the blue-eyed man.

"Plus, Lurch," Behind them all stood a thin, very tall man, who was so gaunt Derek was not sure how he was able to stand upright. "And Grandmamma should be here somewhere." Derek couldn't see her but Aunty Tish walked over, stopping just in front of Derek.

She looked down at him and he suddenly realised how tall she was, she didn't smell of death no matter what her roses had smelled like and she smirked at him. "You're Derek?"

"Yes, hello, Mrs Addams."

"Call me Morticia," she said, leaning a little closer. "You have the most unusual eyes."

"Perfect for a transformation spell," a small woman said stepping around everyone to come and stand before him. She peered up at him. "My Przemysław, you picked a good one – he's a werewolf."

Derek froze, looking around the party and then to Stiles and back down to the woman who looked almost exactly like he imagined the three witches from _MacBeth_ looking.

"What?" Stiles asked, sliding into Derek's side a little more forcefully than he had intended to. "Grandmamma, what do you mean?"

Grandmamma turned to look at Stiles with fond disdain. "If you haven't worked out what he is, my little Przemysław, then I've taught you nothing."

Stiles leaned over to his grandmamma and hissed out quietly. "Not everyone here knows that werewolves exist, just play it cool." Stiles straightened and then dropped again. "And please call me Stiles."

"Never Przemysław, your mother gave you that name."

Stiles flushed. "Grandmamma, please…"

"Could I see you transform?" Wednesday asked, stepping between her mother and grandmother. "I've always been curious."

"Stiles?" Derek said, unsure of what to say to them.

"Maybe later," Stiles said. "I mean, we'll talk about it later. I'm not a werewolf so obviously you can't…"

Derek looked at Stiles and then at Wednesday, she was short like her grandmamma, though she looked much more shrewd, actually on anyone else he would call it sociopathic (almost exactly like the expression Peter wore most days) but he wanted to give Stiles' family the benefit of the doubt.

Stiles grimaced and stopped talking.

"Yes," Derek finished awkwardly. "Later, when the people who don't know have left I'll transform for you."

Stiles turned to him. "You do not need to do that."

Derek shrugged. "I'm going to go and help your dad get the food started."

Derek could hear Stiles whispering to Wednesday as soon as he walked away about not making Derek feel awkward – from her response he thought she was going to continue to do exactly what she felt like doing and apparently that something had everything to do with him. Part of Derek understood it all, if his family were still alive they would have done just as badly with Stiles.

Derek bypassed Sam who was quite happily alone at the barbecue and went to sit with Malia, and Peter – who had reappeared the day before with a shrug and a comment about Stiles' birthday.

"Stiles' family is rather interesting," Peter said, watching Morticia closely.

"Yes," Derek agreed.

"I like them," Malia said, "especially the short one."

Derek looked back at the group and saw Pugsley watching Malia as intently as she was watching him. He didn't even know what to make of that but then Pugsley started walking over and Derek made a hasty retreat from whatever was about to happen.

One-by-one the pack went to meet Stiles' family though Scott lingered longer than anyone else. As soon as all the introductions had been made, Wednesday left them and walked directly to Derek, her eyes locked on his. He could have tried to avoid her but he knew that it was inevitable; Wednesday looked just as tenacious as Stiles had always been.

"Derek," she said, voice toneless.

"Wednesday."

"Stiles has told me about you."

"That's nice, I'm sure he's told you about the whole pack."

Wednesday's eyes narrowed. "He's more talkative about you."

Derek shrugged.

She stared at him, chin down and eyes steady as she stared up at him silently. Derek crossed his arms over his chest and stared back at her. Time stretched out but Derek was comfortable with silence and he did not like to be intimidated. And he was too stubborn to be intimidated by anyone who wasn't actively trying to kill him, or his pack. Wednesday waited him out through two songs and then she blinked. It was obviously not a concession and Derek was certain that no one had won that particular battle.

"You live here in town?"

"I'm building a house in the preserve."

"Because your family home burned down."

"Yes."

"Because of a sociopath you were dating."

Derek didn't like this particular brand of…it wasn't questioning but he still knew that Wednesday was looking for confirmations. "Yes."

"And most of your family died."

"This is a fascinating trip back through my tragic past but is there a point?"

"I wanted to know how long you would let me keep reminding you of it."

"How very delightful."

"Thank you. So, you don't have family anymore."

"I have the pack."

"And Stiles?"

"Stiles is pack."

"Stiles isn't a werewolf."

"That doesn't stop him from being part of the pack," Derek said, frowning down at her.

"Aren't packs for werewolves?"

"Packs are the same as family," Derek told her. "The people who are part of your pack are the people who you would die for, the ones you'd kill for."

"And you'd kill for Stiles?"

Derek shrugged, not willing to admit to murder even if she was Stiles' family.

"Good," Wednesday said, even if her inflection was completely bland. "I've always found it most beneficial to have people who would kill for you around, especially if you love them."

Derek didn't necessarily disagree and he was constantly thankful that Stiles was willing to do so much for the pack but Wednesday couldn't possibly know that. "It's amazing what Stiles does for the pack."

Wednesday took a step closer. "Has Stiles killed someone?"

Derek shook his head. "You seem a little too interested in that idea."

"Professional and familial curiosity."

"And what do you do, Wednesday?"

"I'm a medical examiner," she said, staring at him. "What do you do? Besides, pining after my cousin?"

Derek swallowed roughly.

"I would love to dissect a werewolf," she told him, voice lacking any inflection.

Derek froze, staring down at her. She didn't smile, she didn't retract her words just stared at him silently.

"I won't, obviously, you're Stiles'," she stepped close to him and stared at him in a way he hadn't seen in anyone in years. "But, if you hurt Stiles, I will."

And Derek believed her. She turned, her black bob swinging with her before she walked away. Moments later someone clapped him on the back, when Derek turned his head it was to see Joel standing at his side.

"She's intense," Joel said happily.

"She just threatened to dissect me."

Joel smiled fondly. "Yeah."

Derek could not work out what to make of any of them.

"She wouldn't hurt anyone," Joel said finally.

"Really?"

"Wednesday likes to strike fear into the hearts of her enemies."

Derek felt like he was in an elaborate prank, or maybe in some slightly altered dimension where people discussed dissecting others as though it was something they did. He glanced down at his fingers but he definitely had five fingers on each hand. Derek looked back up and decided to go with it.

He flashed his eyes and used what Stiles called his predator smile. "So do I."

Joel laughed loudly and clapped him on the shoulder. "You're going to fit into the family so well." Then he walked away, Derek left staring at his back as he continued to laugh. Derek shook his head, not sure if he was making a good impression on Stiles' family or not.

Grandmamma came to speak to him a few minutes later, her plate filled with nothing but chicken wings.

"Derek," she said, picking up one of the wings.

"What should I call you?"

She grinned at him. "Grandmamma is just fine."

"I don't know if I should be calling you that."

She shrugged. "Do, or don't, it's entirely up to you – no one has used my name is no long I don't even remember it. You can turn into a full wolf."

Derek froze. "How did you know that?"

"It's all in the eyes – you have the eyes of a man who can transform into a full wolf. I had a brother a long time ago – Knick Knack, he could turn himself into a sheep. When we were young he made the wool for all of our clothes."

"I've never heard of were-sheep before."

Grandmamma laughed. "I do wonder what else you haven't heard of."

"A lot, I'm sure,"

She held out her plate to him. "Wing?"

"No thanks."

"That man you were with when we first arrived, the older man, who was it?"

Derek looked around the party and realised Peter was gone. "That's my uncle."

Grandmamma tilted her head. "And his name?"

"Peter, why?" Derek asked, growing suspicious.

Grandmamma's gaze turned distant. "He looks very familiar."

"What?"

Grandmamma waved a hand. "Tell me, what colour is your pelt?"

"Black."

She closed her eyes with a happy sigh. "I would love a werewolf pelt; do you have any plans for yours after your demise?"

Derek froze, not sure how to take that.

"Stiles will want it I'm sure, to warm him when you are gone – there is nothing quite like your beloved's pelt to keep you warm when they are dead. He'll want it for the funeral of course, but don't you worry about it, I'll help him with it. It's not an easy job to skin a wolf – especially one you love like my Przemysław would love you. Perhaps, I will be lucky enough to meet another werewolf sometime."

Then she stood up and walked away, leaving Derek gaping behind her.

"You look a little confused," Malia said, sitting next to him.

"When I'm dead do you think Stiles would want to skin my wolf's pelt and wear it to the funeral?"

Malia nodded. "I don't see why not. Why do you ask?"

Derek shrugged. "Something Grandmamma said."

Malia nodded slowly. "Who else would you give your pelt to if not Stiles?"

"Why would I give my pelt to anyone?"

Malia shook her head. "Werewolves still confuse me. If I looked at someone the way you look at Stiles I would give them my pelt when I died."

"You've thought about this?"

"I told you, werewolves confuse me."

"Okay," Derek told her, standing up. "I'm going to go and get something to eat."

"There are no wings left," Malia told him annoyed.

Derek shrugged. "I don't mind." He intended to grab some food and slip around the front of the house, steal a few minutes alone while he ate but as soon as he had a plate and had started around the side of the house he caught sight of Gomez being pressed into the wall there by Morticia. He froze, caught by the sight of them wrapped up in one another, before he turned and walked back towards the party. Stiles immediately waved him over and he had no choice but to go and sit with the pack while everyone ate. Not that it was a terrible to sit with Stiles or the rest of the pack but Derek felt that familiar claustrophobia that came with situations like this itching at his neck.

Stiles' knee nudged against his and whispered so quietly only Derek could hear. "It's very quiet in the house – I'm sure you could get a break in my room for a while."

Derek looked over at him but Stiles just smiled and went back to eating. Derek followed his lead and then slipped upstairs knowing he would hear it when they decided to do the cake. He flopped back onto Stiles' bed and closed his ears to everything but the sound of Stiles downstairs. It was everything he needed – twenty minutes of complete silence. He was mature enough to accept that the scent of Stiles surrounding him certainly helped.

A knock on the door pulled Derek up but Lydia didn't wait for him to respond before she walked in and stood in front of him – looking down at him. "Are you done?"

Derek quirked an eyebrow at her.

"I know, I did my research, I know why you hate birthdays and I know why you are trying so damned hard tonight, so have you had the time you need?"

Derek nodded.

"Good, I'm putting the candles on the cake and you had better be down there to help sing to him."

"I will be."

"Good," she patted him on the cheek and turned around. "It's his favourite cake."

"Chocolate mousse cake," Derek said to her back.

Derek took a moment and then followed her downstairs and back out to the party.

Gomez walked over and clapped Derek on the shoulder. "Derek."

"Gomez."

"I'm pleased to have the opportunity to talk to you. My wife's nephew is very important to her."

"He's important to a lot of people."

"And I'm assuming he's important to you."

"Of course he is, he's in the pack and I'm in the pack too."

"I met Morticia at a funeral," Gomez said with a happy smile. "She was the most beautiful person there, the moonlight illuminated her. I do not believe that one person there actually looked into the grave. And yet she was looking at me. It is a heady thing to have the attention of the person who you want to bath in your attention. I fell in love with her at a funeral and we have not been separated since. I would kill for her, I would die for her, I believe you understand what I mean."

Derek quirked an eyebrow at the shorter man and forced himself to remain quiet.

"Oh I know, you are still standing over that grave looking at Stiles while he stares back at you. Loving a Krolak is overpowering and," Gomez sighed happily. "I have some words of advice for you. No need to look so unsure of yourself, I know my Morticia, I know the love of a Krolak, and I see it in young Stiles' eyes as he looks at you. There is no love fiercer than the type they feel – there is no love that is more perfect than the one that is all encompassing and pure. But like a beautiful corpse if you do not treat it properly it can grow to be fetid and be overrun with maggots. Though, that, in its own way, is beautiful. It is not what you want from love – love should be a blood red heart, warm in your hands and still beating. Don't you agree?"

"I…" Derek started, not sure what to say to anything he'd heard. "Yes?"

Gomez smiled happily and puffed at his cigar. "And now I shall go and find my _Cara Mia_ ,"

 _"Mon Cher_ ," Morticia said, walking past – and collecting Gomez as she went.

Derek stood there for a few minutes trying to sort his way through what the other man had been trying to tell him when something he said suddenly hit him. Stiles…Derek smiled and turned to look for the birthday boy but he was in the middle of a group of his university friends so Derek bided his time and waited for Stiles as he thought about everything he'd been told tonight.

It was almost an hour later before Derek came to stand next to Stiles who was alone for the first time that night.

"Hey," he smiled, clinking his bottle of cider against Derek's water.

"Hey."

"Are you off?"

Derek shook his head. "The party's not over yet."

"I know," Stiles said, taking a deep breath and sighing it out as he got comfortable. "But, you normally leave birthday parties by now."

"It's your twenty-first, I hear it's a big deal."

"There is now nothing I can't do legally."

Derek laughed. "Well, in that case, it's not a big deal."

Stiles reached out and wrapped his hand around Derek's wrist. "Don't go yet."

"I'm not going anywhere," Derek told him, settling in next to Stiles and pressing his shoulder into the human's.

"Good."

Derek had been surprised at Stiles' silence each time the other man came home from university. It certainly hadn't change the fact that Stiles' main setting was talking but sometimes, like now, they would just be together in silence and Derek hadn't felt quite so comfortable in anyone's company as he did in those moments. The time stretched out and Derek watched the pack – Kira chatting with two people who were at university with Stiles as though they'd known each other for years. Sam and Morticia sitting close together while Gomez held her hand.

"What do you think of them?" Stiles asked quietly.

"Who?"

"Aunty Tish, all of them?"

"Wednesday said she wants to dissect me and I think your grandmamma was asking if she can have my wolf's pelt if I die."

"Yeah," Stiles grimaced, "she probably did."

"But, they all came here to be with you on your birthday; so I like them."

Stiles smiled at him.

"And they all seem to think I'm yours."

Stiles spasmed and then went very still. "Really?"

"Yep, Wednesday said she wouldn't dissect me because I'm yours. Grandmamma said something about you wearing my pelt at my funeral, Gomez gave me some advice on being loved by a Krolak. He and your aunt are very…"

"When I was a kid, I walked in on them making out at least twice a day."

Derek laughed. "I caught them around the side of the house."

Stiles rubbed a hand down his face. "Were they speaking foreign languages to one another?"

"No."

"If you hear French, run away."

"I'll keep that in mind." Derek said, looking at Stiles intently. "I'm not going to just forget the fact they think I'm yours."

Stiles nodded but didn't say anything, staring directly at Derek instead.

"Are you going to say anything?" Derek asked.

"Why now?"

"What?" Derek asked, confused.

Stiles took a minute, biting his lip, before he turned to Derek fully. "You must know I've had feelings for you for a while, so, why now?"

Derek couldn't resist smiling, feeling it stretching out his cheeks. "No, I didn't. I hoped. Half had myself convinced but your family gave the game away. Plus, I think your dad was trying to encourage me earlier as well."

"You didn't know?" Stiles asked, voice dripping in disbelief.

Derek shook his head. "It's not easy to believe you're getting what you want."

Stiles' eyes grew soft and he leaned forward. "I understand the feeling."

Derek closed the distance between them and kissed Stiles softly, not wanting to do too much where his whole family, the pack, and his father could see them. Stiles didn't allow him distance, curling a hand around Derek's neck and yanking him closer, licking his way past Derek's defences. Derek wrenched himself away.

Stiles smiled at him and pulled him close again.

"Stiles," Derek whispered against the other man's lips.

"Yeah?"

"The pack are all making really high pitched noises."

Stiles smiled against his lips. "They're probably just happy. It's my birthday so you have to kiss me again."

Derek sighed and kissed him again.

They both ignored Lydia's excited squeal or the clapping that seemed to be coming from someone else at the party. It was Stiles' birthday and Derek wanted to give him everything he could want.

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a little coda tomorrow about Wednesday getting her wish to see him transform.


	2. Coda – Wednesday Gets Her Way

**Coda – Wednesday Gets Her Way**

Everyone else had gone home, the pack were cleaning up around them and Stiles wouldn't let Derek up to help them. Sam was stretched out on one of the chairs watching it all happen while Morticia and Gomez were sitting with him and Wednesday and Joel were dancing slowly around the grass in the moonlight to music only they could hear. Pugsley and Bert were playing poker with Grandmamma and Lydia who had certainly refused to do the dishes when she'd planned the whole party.

Derek dropped his head down, tucking it into Stiles' neck and breathing the other man in. Derek still didn't enjoy birthdays but it was a much, much better birthday memory than he'd had since he was sixteen.

Derek lost track of time until someone shook his shoulder.

"Mmmm?"

"I want to see you transform," Wednesday said. "You said you would when everyone else had left."

Derek pulled his head from Stiles and felt the other man shiver.

"Cold," Stiles told him. "Wednesday, you don't always get what you want."

"But if you demand it _now_ you just might get what you asked for."

Derek looked at her. "Why do you want to see me transform?"

"Curiosity."

"Who would not want to see a werewolf transform?" Grandmamma asked.

"Fine," Derek said, standing up and stretching his body out. Then he yanked his shirt up and off.

"Ohhhh, Przemysław, look at him. I could clean shirts on his stomach," Grandmamma said.

"Yes," Bert agreed, "a very fine specimen."

Stiles smiled. "I know, right?"

Derek flushed and stretched out his shoulders. Then he transformed – only as far as any other beta, flashing his eyes at Wednesday.

"That's even better," Grandmamma said. "The eyes – they would make for the most interesting transformation spell."

"Fascinating," Wednesday said, walking closer.

Derek had to force down his desire to bare his teeth at her, warn her off, but he did it for Stiles.

"Is this as far as you can go?" Wednesday asked.

"Where are your eyebrows?" Pugsley asked.

"How strong are you?" Bert asked.

"He's going to make such a wonderful addition to the family," Morticia said wistfully.

"No," Derek said. "I can become a wolf."

"We all want to know where the eyebrows go, Pugs. And he's very strong, Bert. Thanks, Aunty Tish."

"I want to see," Wednesday said, stepping closer.

Derek bared his teeth at her and she stopped, staring at him but she still didn't smell of fear.

"Derek?" Scott asked, coming out of the house. "What are you doing?"

"He's transforming into a full wolf," Wednesday answered.

Derek looked at Stiles and the younger man held his eyes for a few minutes before he nodded. Derek nodded once in response and closed his eyes to transform fully down to a wolf. As soon as he was done he looked up at Wednesday who was holding a hand out to him.

"No!" Stiles said, coming to stand next to Derek. "Don't touch him."

Derek pressed his nose into Stiles' thigh and the other man dropped his hand down to rest on Derek's furry head.

"Why?" Wednesday asked.

"It's dangerous to touch a werewolf," Scott said, standing on Derek's other side.

"It's fascinating," Grandmamma said.

Derek stepped closer to Stiles and then stepped back, turning to walk into the house. Moments later Stiles joined him, carrying his pants and shirt. Derek transformed back to himself, then realised that it was different now. Stiles made sure he kept his eyes up and handed Derek his jeans.

"Thank you," Stiles said.

"It's not a problem," Derek told him.

Stiles stepped closer and slid his arms around Derek's middle. "Can I come home with you tonight?"

Derek wasn't sure what to say but he knew he wanted Stiles to come home with him even if he didn't want to rush anything.

"We don't have to do anything," Stiles told him. "I would just like to not say goodnight to you."

"Yes," Derek said finally, nodding. "I don't want to say goodbye either."

Stiles stepped forward and kissed Derek. Derek tugged him closer until he heard someone outside whistle so he pulled away from Stiles.

"What?"

"Scott transformed," Derek explained. "Your Grandmamma wants his eyes instead now."

Stiles laughed. "We should go back out there."

Derek nodded but he pressed Stiles back into the wall instead.

**The (Real) End**


End file.
